


Sleep is Important, I Swear

by corgiles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Happy Ending, Human Castiel in the Bunker, M/M, i guess, sleep deprivation is Not good, the boys are sad but theyre sad together so maybe a win
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-17 11:04:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16515152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corgiles/pseuds/corgiles
Summary: In the bunker with a human Cas and a sick Sam, sometimes there are days when they need to remind each other to take care of basic functions like sleep.





	Sleep is Important, I Swear

He didn’t want to say a drooling angel-turned-human was cute. Maybe, he could reason that it was more like he never thought he would say he thought the way the collar of his trenchcoat stuck up at random points like his ruffled hair was cute. His face was pushed against a book, now moist, and soft breaths were filtering through the quiet and stillness the bunker symbolized. There were darkened rings under his eyes and gentle twitches of his eyebrows that kept time. Dean eventually knew he was no longer concentrating on his research when he had begun counting the different faces Cas was making. Sam had long since wandered off to bed at Dean’s continued insistence much to his chagrin. Only tissues and open books dog-eared and littered with color-coded sticky notes surrounded the spot he once occupied. 

Dean pushed himself up with a groan, his joints cracking to taunt him and his chair scraping against the cement. He moved around the table to Cas and shook a loose arm thrown among a pile of books on holy weapons. At first, the former angel didn’t respond and didn’t breathe. Dean was becoming used to this and pushed his concern to a different corner in his brain. At more insistent shaking and Dean’s voice, Cas peeked through lidded eyes with a look that used to smite demons. 

“C’mon, you’re human now so you gotta take care of yourself.”

Cas blinked languidly, an action that jerked Dean’s stomach and reminded him of how human Cas truly was now. It wasn’t a sentiment or a facade to reconcile his inability to fit in with angels and his ill attempts at blending in for Dean and Sam or the investigation’s sake. 

“What about you?”

Cas’ eyes had drifted upwards to Dean’s and they looked so unfocused and out of sorts it sent a wave of pain through his chest. Throughout the years he had relied on the clear blue eyes to always guide him through their issues and lies. There was specks of gold that he had admired and followed as they floated in his purity. Now, however, it seemed they had traded places at some point. His right arm twinged in pain. “...What about me?”

“It is quite rare you fulfill the suggested eight hours a human needs. I have watched over you enough to know even that. My memory has not weakened in that regard.”

Dean swallowed around the guilt and shame that settled between his ribs, “Yeah, well, I've been human a lot longer than you. I’ve adjusted.”

“Statistically-“

Dean leaned forward, his mouth contorting as if he was about to lecture Sam, “Mine was a necessity. Yours doesn’t have to be.”

Cas was at the end of the bed now but as Dean turned away, his hand was caught in a strong, relentless grip. “If I have to rest, you have to rest.”

“There’s stuff to do and i don't need it anyway.”

The silence hung between their loosely clasped hands, neither stepping forward nor moving back. Stuck in a stasis of normality and the cycle they had inadvertently trapped themselves in. Always making excuses always did seem to come back to bite him in the ass. 

Cas’s pinky curled in slightly between the caves of Dean’s fingers and he stared at where his hand rushed with heat, “I can’t do much anymore.”

Dean swallowed his guilt, the words that he repeated to himself daily as wet cotton, and the bubbling under his ribs. It was too much to continue to see the five o'clock shadow that defined Cas’ jaw, the heaviness of his eyelids, and the rumpled state of his trenchcoat. 

“I can't protect you and Sam anymore much less myself. I no longer can see your soul.” He breathed through his nose, nostrils flaring only slightly before they deflated in defeat. “I don't even know how to properly sleep.” 

Dean watched as Cas retrieved his hand and wrapped them around stiff shoulders. It was then he thought that maybe the coat was no longer only for nostalgia or his weird style choices, but for a warmth he never needed before. Dean reached Cas in a fluid movement, his hands grasping the collar that no longer cooperated and motioned for Cas to take it off. He did so without much acknowledgement. 

“Is it nightmares?” He asked carefully. 

Cas nodded, “It’s so cold in here.”

Dean folded the coat in a practiced manner and set it aside before gesturing to the comforter behind the other. Cas got under with his eyebrows coming together when Dean gently pushed him further to one side. 

“Did you really enjoy seeing my soul that much?”

The tension in the air folded around the bed and circled the two. There weren’t monsters or demons or guilt in that moment. There were two men who were human and hurting. There was a single thread of trust and affection and love. 

“Yes, more than anything.”

“I mean...my mug ain’t that bad to look at, right?”

Cas rolled to his side as Dean hovered above him, lips pulling into a cheeky smile that made Dean’s heart flutter no matter what year it was. “Nope.”

He shrugged away the years of worry and fears as he climbed in, throwing the blanket over both of them. He waited until Cas looked up to his eyes, his mouth set in its usual line of care, “Let me know if you need me.”

Cas gripped his fingers under the covers, a soft squeeze as his response. Dean steeled himself for sleep, and yawned as he flipped through a variety of emotions that melted with the serenity among the daily chaos. A reminder of why the Winchester boys and their angel continued to fight. The words would hang in the air for now, but they breathed in the emotions in response.

Dean watched Cas sway into sleep, “If you punch me, I’ll be mad. You still got some angel juice left in you, I swear.”

The small tug at the corner of Cas’ lips followed him as Dean closed his eyes and found a ghost of a smile behind them. He listened to the soft breathing and let it lull him to sleep. His fingers curled around the fingers that silently found him, that always somehow found him, as the night moved on around them.

**Author's Note:**

> Sappy romantic looking for some peace coming through. Just a short, quick fic. Maybe something to wistfully expand upon with an actual story. Sorry for any mistakes!


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